Broken
by sophiesophiesophiee
Summary: Charles Carson hated the fair anyway, but now he had a reason.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Me again. This is dark, angsty and a bit different to the things I've written before. There will be more parts to this, hopefully soon if my muse decides to cooperate. I really would appreciate any feedback you have to offer, even if it's just to say that you don't like it.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to Fellowes.**

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The lights were bright and loud music filled the air, the smell of stale cider hitting him like a wall. He had never been a great fan of the fair, it reminded him too much of his days on the stage. But she was going and he did not want to look like an old prude by not going, so he said that he would be going too. She did not give him the chance to suggest going together. She had gone before his mouth could form the words, the sound of her keys softening as her distance from him increased. It was always the same. She would always leave before he had the chance to say anything to her on a less than professional level. There were the occasional slips, of course, but in general, she never allowed emotions to become a subject of conversation.

Charles walked slowly around the various stalls, paying little attention to the attractions that the fair brought with it. There were crowds of young people, some of whom Charles recognised, laughing and drinking as they passed him by. He had never felt so old. He paused in a shadow, spotting a figure he recognised in the distance. She was alone but she was smiling, the orange glow of the lights reflected perfectly in her eyes. There was a smile on her face that broadened as she took in each of the different stalls, giving her face an almost childlike quality. He wanted to go to her, to talk to her, but something in his mind stopped him.

She looked so peaceful and so happy. He did not want to interrupt that. It was not very often that she got away from the pressures that work brought and he did not want to remind her of the life she so rarely forgot. Besides, she did not want to be with him, he was almost certain of it. So, he remained in his shadow, watching her silently, wishing he could be with her, enjoying each of the attractions as they presented themselves.

The dying embers of the evening sun were beginning to fade, suggesting to Charles that it was perhaps time for him to head back. He had lost sight of Elsie some time ago, and had spent a great deal of time searching for her. He wanted to find her, to offer his arm and to walk back with her, to make sure she got back safely and to enjoy her company. But she was nowhere to be seen and the crowds were dispersing, so Charles straightened his hat upon his head and stepped out from the shadow he was stood in, heading back on the path towards Downton Abbey.

He walked quickly, arriving back at the house in half the time it would have usually taken him. He hung up his belongings in his pantry and went to her sitting room, hoping to catch her before she retired for the night. But there was no light visible under her door and when knocked, there was no reply. He was too late.

He headed up to his room and climbed into his bed, his mind filled with thoughts of her. Something was wrong, he could feel it. There was no way she could have returned so quickly and he knew that she always, without fail, drank a cup of tea before she went to bed. Things just did not add up.

So, he rose from his bed and redressed, checking her sitting room once more before he headed back out into the darkness to try and find her.

The night was cold and an unnerving stillness filled the air. Charles moved quickly, making the journey back into the village along the footpath that he knew Elsie would have used, the footpath she always used when she walked into the village. The light breeze that had been in the air earlier had escalated into a strong wind, and the trees rustled as if they were warning him to turn back. He pressed on, however, determined to find Elsie before heading back to his bed.

The tents were being dismantled and the bright lights had faded, the only lights now coming from the flickering lamps that allowed the removal men to see what they were doing. The dark figures moved swiftly in the cold night air, packing up the poles and canvases that had earlier been arranged into the tents that Charles had hidden between. The housekeeper was not amongst those figures.

He caught the elbow of one man who was carrying a pole in each hand. "Excuse me, I'm looking for someone. She was wearing a green coat and a matching hat. Dark hair, blue eyes. Have you seen her?" He received a shake of the head in response and the figure disappeared, continuing to dismantle the stalls.

Charles' pulse began to race. His concern was building and the night was becoming colder. The sinking feeling in his chest had not abated, if anything, it had worsened. Elsie was in trouble, he could feel it.

He stood in the centre of the village for a moment, scanning his surroundings for anything out of the ordinary, anything that might suggest where Elsie would be, but nothing stood out to him. There were no lights from the public houses, shops or from the post office and the villagers were all in bed, where he longed to be. He shook his head. It was useless searching for her alone. He would need reinforcements if he wanted to find Elsie sooner rather than later.

He moved swiftly back towards the path to the house and stopped, all of a sudden. There was another route back to Downton. An unbeaten, grassy track, little used. Having had no luck on the usual footpath, Charles turned towards the track, his stomach churning and a prayer repeating itself over and over in his mind that he would not find what his imagination was suggesting.

He walked slowly down the track, taking his time to examine his surroundings, searching for any indication that anyone had been here at all. The grass had been flattened, confirming that someone had been here recently, though he knew better than to jump to a conclusion immediately. There could be any number of explanations for it, none of them half as bad as the explanation his mind was screaming at him.

He stopped. The faint cracking sounds of twigs being stepped on met his ears and he turned swiftly to his right. He could make out the silhouette of a small female figure, the alabaster skin of her face marred by a deep purple bruise and an angry red cut.

The words caught in his throat. He prayed that he was mistaken, that the figure was not her, but still whispered into the air, "Elsie?"

The sound of cracking twigs met his ears once more and the small figure emerged, illuminated by the pale light of the moon. Tear tracks were visible on her cheeks and he could see her shaking from where he stood. He extended a hand to her, allowing her to make the first move, considering it unwise to make any sudden movement towards her, not wanting to alarm her in any way. She moved into his shadow, her gaze lowered, as if she were trying to hide her face.

Slowly and shakily she placed her hand in his and lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. And that's when he saw it. Fear.

Elsie Hughes had been broken.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews that I received for the first chapter. I really do appreciate each and every one of them. Just a slight warning, this chapter is a little darker than the last, for which I apologise. I hope this doesn't disappoint any of you – once again, feedback is very much appreciated, both positive and negative.**

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Silently, the two of them made their way back to the house, now shrouded in darkness. He opened the door for her and guided her into the servants' hall, refraining from touching her in case it startled her. She sat down in her customary seat and for the first time, Charles was able to take in the full extent of the horror she had been subjected to. He busied himself for a moment making tea for the two of them, more for something to do rather than for their need for refreshment. He used his initiative and sugared hers, remembering reading something about its qualities in relation to trauma.

Once the tea was made, he returned to the table, sitting in his usual seat beside her. She stared into her teacup instead of meeting his gaze and, for a moment, Charles wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold her hand, to show her she was not alone. He refrained, though. He did not want to scare her further.

He was reluctant to make the first move, for fear that she would think he was pressuring her. But, after sitting for twenty minutes in silence and watching her drink her tea, he felt something had to be said.

"What happened, Elsie?" Propriety was gone. He was her friend now, not her colleague. His voice was quiet and gentle, probing gently rather than demanding an answer. She slowly turned her bruised face to look at him, her jaw swollen and her cut still bleeding.

Charles did his best not to look at her injuries. He knew she did not want him to draw attention to them and he respected that. He heard her take a breath and waited for her response.

"I love the fair." She began, her voice barely audible and her accent thicker with the emotions that she was experiencing. "It reminds me of my childhood, in a way…"

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The lights were bright and music was loud, just as it used to be when her older brother took her to the fair as a young girl. The smell of cider always reminded her of him and she promised herself a treat before she left; a glass of cider from the stall in the corner.

She made her way around each of the attractions, pausing at each stall to view what it had to offer. Each of them reminded her of a different aspect of her childhood, many of them offering prizes like those her brother had won for her or shows similar to those she used to watch in awe, wishing that she had a talent like the people dancing or performing tricks. Part of her still wished she could learn something like that, though her conscious mind told her that she was far too old for silly things like that.

She wandered around, greeting people she knew, a genuine smile on her face as her memories flooded back to her. She missed her brother dearly. It had been five years since he passed away, and every time the fair was in town, she would come back and just for that evening, she would relive her childhood, the sights, smells and sounds providing a warmth that she had not experienced since he had left her.

The sky began to darken and Elsie knew that it was time to leave the hustle and bustle of the village and return to the house, to her sitting room, for a warm cup of tea and a chapter of a novel before retiring to her bed. She walked along the last of the stalls, pausing only to purchase the cider that she had promised herself earlier that evening. She sipped it, the taste of the liquid providing her with one last memory for the evening. A smile rose on her face as the familiarity swept over her, just for a moment. She turned back and headed towards the path, humming the tune that the dancers had moved to when she watched their performance and sipping her drink.

She did not hear the footsteps behind her.

She did not see the shadows approaching.

She only felt a hand over her mouth and an arm around her waist.

She could not move quickly enough to break free from the grasp she was in. She was only small, she was not strong enough to fight back. All she had was the cider in her hand, which she managed to pour over the head of her attacker. It did not help her case, but it caused the hold on her to be relinquished, if only for a moment.

She regretted her decision soon afterwards. A fist connected with her jaw and she cried out in pain; no one had ever touched her like this, she had never been taught to fight back. Something connected with the back of her head, and then the world went dark.

She was not sure where she was when she awoke. It was dark, it was cold and it was damp. She took a moment to come to her senses and to realise what had happened, until it struck her that she was not completely sure what had actually happened to her. She was slumped against a tree and she was alone. Her coat, her beloved coat, lay in a heap on the ground beside her and her stockings were laddered. From the state of her clothing, she could guess what had happened.

It was not until she tried to move that her body confirmed her suspicions. She was sore, she was bleeding, and she was aching. Walking was, initially, unbearable, so she steadied herself against the tree, taking a moment to pull her coat on and wrap it tightly around herself. She felt vulnerable and exposed, something she had never experienced before.

The world around her felt alien. Each noise that met her ears caused her to jump, and she looked over her shoulders every few seconds, terrified that her attacker would return, terrified that she would be subjected to the same thing again, but remain conscious this time.

Her heart pounded in her ears and her breathing became shallow; there was no way she could even contemplate moving from her position, let alone make the journey back to the house from wherever it was that she had been left. She was scared and she was alone, two things that she had never felt before.

She could hear footsteps coming closer to her and for a moment, she held her breath, not wanting to give herself away, immediately assuming that it would be her attacker returning to gloat. The footsteps, however, sounded familiar, the rhythm almost soothing to her, and she felt her heart rate begin to steady of its own accord. It was then that she felt safe enough to emerge from her shadow, only to be met with the concerned face of her closest ally, Charles Carson. He murmured her name in a voice she barely recognised, and it took her a moment to comprehend that he really was there. His hand was stretched towards her and, in an attempt to dispel the iciness that had shrouded her body, she held onto it.

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"Do you want me to send for the police? For Doctor Clarkson?" Charles had remained silent as Elsie relayed her evening to him, her voice almost expressionless, as though she were attempting to block out the events as she described them. She answered his question with a soft shake of her head.

"There would be no point." Finally their eyes met. "I have no description to give. No recollection of what he actually did to me. Only wounds that I can guess from." She paused, breaking eye contact with him and focusing on her cup and saucer again. "Thank you for rescuing me this evening. I don't know how, or why, you came to be looking for me, but for whatever it was that sent you to me, I am and always will be grateful."

Tears were in her eyes again and this time, Charles could not stop himself from reacting. He reached out his hand across the table slowly. He did not touch her, he waited for her to initiate contact. After a moment's hesitation, her hand slid into his, just as it had done earlier that evening, and the two of them sat in silence, each wondering where they could – and would – go from here.

_**TBC...**_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Once again, thank you for the reviews. I love hearing what you all have to think about this. Hopefully you're not getting too bored yet! There'll be more to come ;) **

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"Anna, could I have a word please?" The young maid nodded and followed Charles into his pantry, closing the door behind her. "I have a rather delicate matter that I wish for you to be made aware of. Mrs Hughes was attacked last night on the way back from the fair. It's obviously not a good idea for people to see her, particularly whilst her wounds are so fresh. In a few days she will be able to cover them up. In her absence, I was rather hoping you would fulfil her duties." He paused, offering a hint of a smile when Anna nodded. "And there was another thing. She refused to have the doctor called out, but I think it's better to get her checked over. Perhaps you could have a word?" She nodded again.

"Pardon my asking, Mr Carson, but what sort of attack was it?" His expression told her all she needed to know. "I see. I'll go up and see her. Perhaps take her some tea and breakfast." It was still very early in the morning and breakfast had not yet been served. He was grateful for Anna's response, knowing that Elsie would perhaps appreciate a female friend more than a male for the time being.

Anna knocked softly on Elsie's door, a tray in her other hand. She slowly opened it and let herself into the room, closing the door with a soft click behind her. Elsie was curled up on a chair in the corner, a blanket wrapped tightly around herself. When Anna walked in, she lowered her head, as if trying to hide her injuries from her. She placed the tray on the side and knelt in front of Elsie, trying to catch her gaze.

"Mr Carson told me what happened." She murmured, reaching out to touch Elsie's hand. "He asked me to make sure you were alright." Slowly, Elsie lifted her head to meet Anna's gaze. The bruises on her face were darker than they had been, and her skin was paler than ever. "Let me check you over?" She kept her voice soft, not wanting to alarm Elsie in any way. The housekeeper nodded and slowly rose to her feet, unwrapping the blanket from her small frame.

Elsie stood before Anna in just her slip, bruises dotted over her shoulders and down her arms. On her left shoulder, there was something that looked to Anna like a bite mark and she inhaled sharply.

On the tray she had brought up with her, Anna had remembered to bring up the first aid box from Elsie's sitting room. She rifled through the box and found some antiseptic cream, rubbing some gently into the mark on Elsie's shoulder.

"I'm sorry to have to ask this, Mrs Hughes, but I need you to take off your slip." A look of terror flashed across Elsie's face for a moment. Then she calmed, took a breath and nodded. As the material fell to the floor, Anna had the opportunity to take in the full extent of Elsie's wounds, and as she did so, tears sprang to her eyes.

She tended to each of Elsie's wounds, taking time to make sure that she was not hurting her even more. Finally, she redressed Elsie, picking up the blanket for her and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"Are you sure you don't want Doctor Clarkson to check you over?" Elsie shook her head silently. "Take as much time as you need, Mrs Hughes. I'll be back to see you after lunch. Try to eat some of your breakfast, you need your strength." She squeezed Elsie's hand gently and left the room, biting her lip as she went.

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"How is Mrs Hughes, Anna?" Charles asked, indicating for her to follow him into his pantry.

"Very quiet. She didn't say anything when I went in to see her. I checked her over and dressed a few of her wounds but she's still adamant that she doesn't want to see a doctor. I told her I'd go back and see her after lunch. Some of her wounds though, Mr Carson…" She paused. "She must have gone through hell."

Charles' expression was grim. He hated to think of what had happened to Elsie whilst she was unconscious, and hearing Anna talk about her wounds the way she had only served to increase his worry tenfold. He sighed.

"She wouldn't let me call anybody for her last night. As it stands, we're the only two that know. I've told the staff that she has the flu but I'm not sure how long that story will remain plausible. I do think we ought to perhaps tell her ladyship." He was thinking aloud, concern etched all over his face. "Of course, I wouldn't do that without her knowing. Do you think it would be wise for me to visit her?" He looked at Anna and for the first time, she was able to see just how affected he had been by Elsie's ordeal.

"I think she needs our support, Mr Carson. She trusts you, otherwise she wouldn't have told you what happened. Go and see her. If she doesn't want you there, she'll make it clear." He nodded, his eyes downcast.

"I shall pay her a visit now, I think. Thank you, Anna, for looking after her." The maid offered a small smile and left, giving Charles a moment to collect his thoughts before he made his way to Elsie's room.

He rapped softly on her door. After a few moments, it opened, Elsie's face appearing in the opening. Upon seeing who her visitor was, she opened the door further to let him in, taking the time to scan the corridor for a sign that anyone else was around. Satisfied, she closed the door again and turned back to Charles. She was still wrapped in her blanket but a little colour had returned to her cheeks.

"How are you feeling?" The usually loud voice was soft and warm and it provided a little comfort to Elsie, who had perched on the side of her bed.

"Sore. Bruised. I'm glad I took that bath before I came to bed though. I got a little sleep at least." Charles nodded silently. "Thank you for last night. I'd still be out there if you hadn't come looking for me."

"Don't think about that." He offered a small smile and perched down beside her. "Anna tells me some of your wounds look rather painful. I really do think you should see a doctor. Or at least Mrs Crawley, she is a nurse, after all…" Elsie sighed.

"If it will satisfy you, and stop you harassing me, then I will see Mrs Crawley. Not Doctor Clarkson, though. I don't think I could…not with him. I don't know him well enough to be able to trust him." She paused then added, almost inaudibly, "Not like I trust you."

Her words brought a smile to Charles' face and he touched her hand very gently. "I'll always be here for you, Elsie." He murmured, brushing his thumb over her knuckles and barely hiding his surprise when she opened her hand to hold onto his. "I just wish there was something more that I could do."

"Shh." Came her response. "You're here, and you're holding my hand, both figuratively and literally. That's more than I could ever have asked from you. You're one in a million, Charles Carson, and I wouldn't be here without you."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, their fingers intertwined. No words were exchanged between the two of them, for none were needed. Soon, he would return to work and she would return to her thoughts, but for that moment, nothing else in the world mattered.

_**TBC...**_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter was remarkably difficult to write, probably because not a great deal happens! Once again, thank you for the beautiful reviews. They really are inspiring.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. This is a sad situation.**

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"How is she?" Charles had been pacing in the corridor ever since Isobel had gone into Elsie's room to check her over. When she finally emerged again, Charles sprang into life, desperate for news on his friend.

"She's very up and down. Shaken, expectedly. The wounds all look superficial, Anna did a good job of patching her up." She placed a hand on Charles' upper arm. "You've been so good to her, Carson. She asked for me to send you in to her." She smiled then turned away from him, making her way back to the house.

Charles could not help but smile. At least he was making a difference, he mused. That was all he could hope for, really. He took a moment to gather his thoughts then knocked on Elsie's door and let himself into her room, relieved to see her dressed and smiling. It was a sight he had longed to see after the events of the past few days; there was a moment when he believed that he would never see that smile again.

"How are you feeling today?" He smiled, closing the door and sitting down on the end of her bed. She moved to him and sat beside him, offering a warm smile to him.

"I feel better. I'm not quite as sore today and I slept really well last night. I just want these bruises to go so I can get back to some sort of normality, whatever that is!" Charles' smile broadened. "Thank you, again. I know I've said it before, but I mean it. I'd be a broken mess if it hadn't been for you. Thank you."

The two of them parted, as Charles needed to prepare for dinner. Elsie returned to her book, content to lose herself in the alternative world that it provided for her, if only for a while. Charles had promised to return that evening, giving her something to look forward to, for which she was grateful. He had not given her the opportunity to dwell for too long upon what had happened to her. As he reminded her, the inability to recall the events was a positive thing. It saved her the emotional turmoil and the chance of reliving the attack. But Elsie could not help her imagination running away with her when she was left alone. All the 'what if's' and 'maybes' continued to run through her head, leaving her with visions that were far more haunting than she had let on to Charles.

Her dreams had been plagued with scenarios that her mind had conjured up and she woke frequently in the night, terrified that her dreams were real and whimpering into the silence of her room. She was terrified, pure and simple, but she was proud. Too proud.

Charles returned to her earlier than usual. The family had decided to retire early, leaving him free to share the leftover wine with her – should she choose to participate. He took the decanter and two glasses up to her room, giving his usual knock before letting himself in.

Elsie was curled up on her bed, her book having fallen to the floor. She was moving frantically, whimpers being released sporadically, each more urgent than the last. Her face was contorted in a mixture of pain and terror, and Charles wanted nothing more than to move straight to her side and hold her, but he knew better than to do that. All he could think to do was talk to her, to calm her. Then he would wake her.

"Elsie…" he murmured, sitting in the chair beside her bed. "Elsie, love. It's me, Charles. Calm down, you're only dreaming. It's just a dream." He repeated his words over and over again, allowing his voice to become stronger with each loop. Slowly, her movements stilled and her face relaxed.

When Elsie opened her eyes, she struggled to adjust to her surroundings. She was unsure of where she was and was still convinced that her dream was real. Then she looked up to see him sitting dutifully by her side, concern etched over his features.

"You're safe, Elsie. I'm here, I won't let anyone hurt you." His voice was gentle and soothing and Elsie soon found herself relaxed. She sat up slowly and leaned back against the wall, looking smaller and more fragile than ever.

"How often have you had nightmares since…?" A red tinge travelled across her cheeks.

"Every night." She murmured. "I didn't want to mention it, I thought if I told you everything was fine, it would be. I thought maybe you'd let me come back to work, if I could just convince you that I was getting back to normal…" She trailed off and broke eye contact, feeling ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry."

"Shh." He responded, reaching out a hand to her. "If anything, I was more worried that you seemed to be coping too well. And as for work…I'm sure Anna won't mind you doing the paperwork. That will keep you occupied for a while, at least. Distract you from your thoughts." She nodded. "Now, talk me through these dreams of yours. Tell me what it is you're seeing, what you're dreaming. I like to think I may be of some use to you."

The two of them sat and talked long into the night, Charles successfully managing to steer each of Elsie's imaginings away from her conscious mind by simply reminding her that it was just a dream and that he would never be further away than the room next door. She seemed brighter after their conversation, but soon it was time for Charles to retire for the night.

Elsie did not want to be left alone. The thought of being left in the dark, empty room terrified her, and for the first time, Charles saw just how afraid she was.

"You have the key to the door between the men's and women's quarters. Use it. Come and wake me if you cannot sleep. We'll work out a way of getting you to rest." He squeezed her hand gently then rose from his seat. Elsie tugged on his wrist for a moment, pulling him down to her and wrapping her arms tentatively around his neck.

"Thank you, Charles. You're too good to me." Eventually she let him go and watched him leave. She curled up under her blanket and closed her eyes, expecting the visions of the fair to return to her, but she was pleasantly surprised when they did not. They had been replaced with another image, a happier image, involving a certain butler…

_**TBC...**_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! I'd like to thank Kouw for the encouragement she has given me. Without her, this chapter would never have been written. Big loves to her.**

**As usual, I own none of the characters. Just borrowing them from Mr Fellowes. I'll return them when I'm done, I promise!**

**Reviews are always very much appreciated.**

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When Elsie Hughes woke the following morning, she felt better than she had done in some time. Her dreams had not been plagued with the disturbing images that had become the norm of late, and for that, she was grateful. Instead, she was met with visions of herself and Charles Carson, talking, laughing and, her favourite, him holding her.

She climbed from her bed and sat down at her dressing table, studying her reflection in the looking glass. Her bruises were beginning to fade, for which she was grateful. She would be able to return to work soon, her mind would be filled with linen rotas and wayward maids rather than the haunting thoughts of what happened to her. Her return could not come soon enough.

She washed herself down with the basin of water that Anna had left in her room, surprised at how alive the cool water made her feel. It felt as though she were wiping the torturous memories away with every droplet of water that landed on her skin, and although she knew that it would not be a permanent solution, any sort of break from Elsie's plagued mind was a welcome one.

She had just pulled her dress on when a firm knock came upon her door. She knew that knock; she would recognise it anywhere. She opened the door with a smile and stepped back to allow Charles into the room, eyeing the breakfast tray he brought with him hungrily.

"You're looking better this morning!" He smiled, the relief evident on his features. It was then that Elsie realised just how concerned he had been for her recently.

"I feel it." Came her response as she began eating her porridge. "I can't wait to get back to work. Back to normality. Back to myself." Charles watched her eat silently for a moment.

"Don't rush things, Elsie. I'd rather you take months and be fully fit than come back too soon and end up worse…" His voice had softened, causing Elsie to put her spoon down and look at him.

"I appreciate your concern, Charles. Honestly, I do. But you know me. You know I can't sit around here all day, brooding. I need to be busy, I need something else to focus on. Even if it is the key to the store cupboard!" The smile that accompanied her words satisfied Charles, if only for a moment. He would, of course, keep an eye on her when she did eventually return to work. "And don't think for one moment that I'll let you get away with mollycoddling me when I'm back! I have a reputation to uphold, you know. It won't look good if the butler is asking the housekeeper if she's alright every five minutes!" Charles blushed, his cheeks burning. She knew him too well.

"Well don't think that I'm going to let you pretend everything is fine. If something isn't right, I want you to tell me. I want you to trust me enough to do that. Please?"

Elsie had never seen this side of Charles before. He had always had his barriers, the stern façade that he wore as a butler. She reached out her hand to him and brushed his arm affectionately, a smile settling on her face.

"Of course I trust you, Charles. Do you think I would have allowed you to see me like this if I didn't? I wouldn't have even let you see me. You're a friend, Charles. A very dear friend to me. I will always be honest with you, that I can promise." She paused. "And whilst we're on the subject of honesty…I believe there's something else you haven't told me. Something you've been holding back, since long before this happened." She did not know where her new-found confidence had come from, but she hoped it would last, at least for the duration of this conversation.

Put on the spot, Charles' cheeks burned once more. He hesitated, just for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a number of times before he found the words to voice his feelings. "Elsie…are you sure this is an appropriate time? I do not wish to put any more pressure on you…"

Always the gentleman.

"I know how you feel, Charles. Believe me, I've known for some time. I just need to hear you say the words, to make it real."

Charles took a breath. "Elsie…you have been a very dear friend to me ever since you started here at Downton. You've listened to my tales, you've calmed my nerves and you have looked after me, even though on occasions I was downright rude to you. What I'm trying to tell you, and have been trying to tell you for the last goodness knows how long, is that I have feelings for you, very deep feelings He hesitated again, looking down at his hands. "I love you, Elsie."

The tears that were in Elsie's eyes made Charles panic for a moment; he had not meant to upset her in any way. But, when she took his hand in hers and squeezed it very gently, he knew that she was not upset. She held onto his hand for a moment, neither of them saying a word. It was like everything between the two of them had suddenly become very clear, and neither wanted to break the atmosphere that had fallen upon Elsie's room.

"Thank you, Charles. Firstly for being honest. Secondly, for being you." She kissed his hand, not altogether comfortable with any contact more intimate than that. "When this nightmare is finally over, I would like to get to know you better." She hoped that he would understand the meaning behind her words, and, from the smile that had appeared on his face, she knew that he had.

"Only when you are ready, Elsie. I'm not going to pressure you, or rush you, or hurt you in any way. I just want to look after you, if you'll let me?"

She nodded and squeezed his hand once more, her meaning crystal clear.

Things were definitely looking up.

_**TBC...**_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: There will probably just be an epilogue to follow this. Thank you for all the reviews so far, they've been a real help! As usual, I don't own any of the characters.**

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"Good morning, Mrs Hughes." Anna's smile was reflected in each of the other servants' faces, their glee at her return impossible to ignore. She returned the smile to each of them and sat in her customary place by Charles' side, touched by the warmth that she had been met with. It was a little over a week ago that she was attacked. Her face had returned to its original colour and shape, and she was able to move freely and painlessly, which she never thought she would be so grateful for. It no longer hurt her to lift or carry things, to run up and down the stairs, or to get down on her hands and knees and scrub the floors – not that she would partake in such an activity, but knowing she now could was a comfort to her.

She ate her breakfast in silence, happily observing the rest of the staff communicating. She was aware of Charles' gaze fixed upon her face, presumably searching for any hint of discomfort or pain, something that he could use to wrap her up in cotton wool. She would never admit it to him, but his protective attitude towards her was welcome; she was finally coming to admit that she was not getting any younger, and she rather appreciated the idea that he was looking out for her. No one had ever looked out for her as much as he had in the last week.

She went about her duties, leading her team of maids in their routines, acutely aware of Charles – and Anna – going around behind her, making sure she was not over exerting herself. By the time she sat down to eat her lunch, she was a little frustrated.

"Mr Carson, could I have a word with you in my sitting room when we're finished. There's a matter I wish to discuss with you." Her voice was firm and authoritative, just as it had been before her attack, and Charles was a little taken aback by her tones.

"Of course, Mrs Hughes." Neither of them spoke throughout their break, and Charles began to worry that something was bothering her. The two of them moved to her sitting room after they had finished eating, and Elsie folded her arms across her chest.

"I'm not made of china, Charles." She began, sitting down beside him. "I'm not about to break. You don't need to keep following me around." Her voice softened towards him, acknowledging that he was doing it out of concern for her.

"I'm sorry, Elsie. I just want to make sure you're well, that you're fit and healthy enough to be doing all the things you're doing." His cheeks took on the pink tinge that had become commonplace as of late, and Elsie almost felt guilty for admonishing him.

"I appreciate your concern, Charles, but I need to get back to normal. And that means standing on my own two feet. I'm a big girl. I'm more than capable of looking after myself." The colour on his cheeks darkened. "At work, that is. Outside of work is another matter. One that will be up for discussion soon, if you agree?" He nodded eagerly and she smiled at him. "Wine after dinner this evening?"

If the truth be told, Elsie had missed their evenings together. Of course, they had spent the same amount of time together – possibly even more since she had locked herself away in her room – but the subjects up for discussion were different. They had centred around her state, emotional and physical, rather than their usual, happy, carefree discussions about the staff and the world around them.

The two of them returned to work, Elsie's words ringing loudly in Charles' ears. He forced himself to keep out of her way, only occasionally checking on her in order to put his mind at rest between tasks. He felt like a young boy again, trying not to get caught doing something he ought not to, but he could not help himself, and he felt he simply had to make sure that she really was there, alive and well, carrying out her duties, almost as if nothing had happened.

Almost.

There was a slight change in her attitude. She was much lighter on her feet, almost as though she were making a conscious effort not to draw attention to herself. The tone she had adopted when addressing the maids was much lower and softer, and on one or two occasions, he could see her gazing wistfully into the distance, lost in thought.

That evening, he went to her sitting room after he had finished serving dinner to the family. She was sat on the settee, her legs curled beneath her and her hair unpinned, much unlike the Elsie he had seen before dinner. She smiled at him as he closed the door behind him and held out a hand to him, longing for the familiar contact that the two of them had recently become accustomed to.

Charles encased her soft hand in his own and sat down beside her, reaching out his other arm and wrapping it cautiously around her shoulder. She moved into his warmth and rested her head upon his shoulder, enjoying the silence that felt between them for a moment.

"Thank you for caring, Charles. I know I've said it before, but I see no harm in saying it again. You've been far more than I could ever ask you to be, far more than I deserve…" Charles placed his finger over her lips to silence her.

"It has been my dream for as long as I can remember, to take care of you. I just wish the circumstances were different. I wish you hadn't gone through what you did, I wish more than anything I could take that away. But I'll have to settle for helping you through it instead."

She kissed his finger very softly and offered him a soft, almost tearful smile. "Thank you, Charles."

The two of them sat together for the remainder of the evening, barely a word exchanged between the two of them. Words were not needed. Not now.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So sorry for the delay. RL can be truly awful sometimes. Anyway, here is the final part to this. Thank you for sticking with it, and as always your reviews mean the world to me. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. I'll never be as rich or as talented as Fellowes. I'm returning these characters for now. Until next time, that is…**

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**Epilogue **

The fair was back in town.

The younger staff had all, once again, been given the night off to go and enjoy themselves – not before a warning was issued by the butler and housekeeper about the types of people they could meet in the village. Charles closed the door after the last of the maids had left and turned back to Elsie, a small smile on his face.

"So, Mrs Hughes. We have the house to ourselves…"

Once again, the Crawley family had travelled to London for a family function, something that had become a tradition, of sorts. Charles pulled up a chair beside Elsie at the table and poured himself a cup of tea from the pot that she had just made.

Elsie looked up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. She took a breath, as though she were about to say something, then closed her mouth again, deciding against it. Charles' hand landed gently on top of hers and he laced their fingers together on the table.

"What is it, love? Talk to me?" He could tell that something was bothering her, and he wanted nothing more than for her to open up to him, to share her worries, to let him make things better.

"I've just been thinking about this time last year. Going to the fair…thinking about how many things have changed in my life." A smile crept onto her features and she looked up to meet his gaze. "Most of what came of that night was good. And it makes me almost grateful that something happened to push us together. I just…" she sighed, rubbing her temples with the hand that was not joined to Charles'. "I wish I could give you more. I wish we could be together, properly." Her cheeks became red and she broke eye contact with him, a little embarrassed by the meaning of her words.

"I've told you, Elsie. That side of things doesn't matter to me. I have my friend, my companion. And I have your heart, don't I? That's the biggest prize of all." He smiled and stroked the back of her hand. "Please, never say that you're grateful for what happened to you. I understand the meaning behind your words, but the implication…it doesn't bear thinking about." He paused, looking into her eyes for a moment. "Do you think that a visit to the fair might help to bury some demons? I promise to hold your hand the whole time. To protect you from harm. To make sure nothing bad happens to you."

Elsie paused for a moment, contemplating his suggestion. Perhaps that was not such a bad idea. Nothing bad could happen to her if Charles was protecting her. She gave a slight inclination of her head.

"I think perhaps I'd like to try. I only ask that you're patient with me, and that if I need to come home, you'll bring me home, no questions." Charles smiled, nodded and kissed her hand softly.

"Come on then. I'll fetch our coats."

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Charles wrapped an arm around Elsie's waist gently as they walked into the village, keeping her close to him and ensuring that she knew he was there. Occasionally, she looked up at him and offered a smile, reassuring herself that she was not alone, as she was last time. She looked up at the bright lights over their heads and allowed a small smile to settle on her face; the happy memories she held of the fair were still there, perhaps even stronger than before.

They reached the cider stall, and together they stood for a moment, Elsie contemplating whether or not she would buy herself a drink. Charles nodded towards the stall and gave her a gentle tug.

"Come on. How about we share one?" Elsie smiled at his suggestion and walked to the stall, purchasing a small glass of cider for the two of them to share.

The strong smell brought back memories, just as they had the last time that she was here. Except this time, the happy memories of her childhood had become tainted with the visions of what had happened the last time she had consumed this drink. She looked up at Charles, her smile gone and her skin pale, and he understood. He handed the glass to a passer-by with a smile and gave Elsie a small, comforting squeeze. She nestled into his arms for a moment, lifting a hand to hold onto the lapel on his jacket.

Charles rested his cheek against the top of Elsie's head, content to stand entwined with her for a moment. He knew how much courage and strength it took for her to leave the house, to return to where her nightmare had started, and he wanted to support her in any way he could, both emotionally and physically.

After a short time, Elsie relinquished her hold on Charles' clothing and the two of them resumed walking around the various attractions.

"Charles, might we head back now? I'm a little tired and I think I've had enough now." He nodded and guided her back down the pathway towards the house, stopping for just a moment to kiss the side of her head affectionately.

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"Elsie, my love, I am so proud of you for what you achieved tonight." He smiled, pouring a cup of tea from the freshly brewed pot that they had taken into her sitting room. "You're incredible. Absolutely incredible."

The blush returned to Elsie's cheeks. She could not keep the smile from her face upon hearing his words, and she reached out to him, taking his large hand between the two of her own and clasping it to her chest.

"Kiss me, Charles." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and it took Charles a moment to comprehend what she had said. He placed his cup down and moved very slowly towards her, allowing her to close the distance between them in her own time. And close the distance, she did.

Charles stroked her cheek gently as she pulled away, his smile mirroring the one that adorned her face. Carefully, she moved towards him and sank down onto his lap, resting her forehead against his. She smiled, and placed a gentle kiss to the end of his nose.

"Thank you," she grinned, stroking his cheek very gently. "For holding my hand and making everything better." Charles couldn't help nuzzling into the warmth of her hand.

"Perhaps one evening you'd like to come to my pantry for a glass of wine. There's an offer I'd like to make you some time soon."

Elsie beamed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'd love to." She smiled. "Have a glass of wine, I mean…"

Charles laughed softly, pulling her body closer to his and kissing the top of her head absent-mindedly. "And perhaps we could talk about retiring…together? Not right now, I think we both have a few years left yet, but maybe we could start making provisions to put those plans into order…?" Elsie nodded eagerly.

"I'd like that," she smiled. "I'd like that very much indeed, Mr Carson."

**The End**


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